Fitbit Thoughts

I enjoy the Fitbit. It’s amusing how it’s conditioned my thinking. Just like cats train us, the Fitbit has me trained.

I’m more congnizant of moving and the need to move. Whereas I used to attempt to be expedite doing things, I now make the most out of activities to get max movement. For example, I used to think, “Okay, I’m going to the master bedroom. What do I need to take back there?” Then I would load up so as to do only one trip. Now, I take one thing at a time and make multiple trips because I want those steps. This is also less stressful to me.

My average miles per day is up to five point seven three miles. Steps have increased to thirteen thousand, one hundred twenty-seven. Active minutes have increased to a seventy-one per day average.

It’s easy to forget to put the Fitbit back on. It needs to be removed for showers or baths, and recharging. My wife and I have both caught ourselves walking briskly around as we clean, accumulating steps, only to discover we don’t have our Fitbit on. So all that stepping you did, and no points! Damn!

My solution to the recharging side of it is to recharge at the end of the day. If I do forget to put it back on, my sleep won’t be tracked. That’s not a terrible loss.

The Fitbit’s sleep function seems iffy. One day it didn’t record my sleep at all. I reported it to Fitbit. We know we have some issues with it, they replied. We’re working on it.

Another night, my wife got up to check on something with the cats. I was also up at the time. It was about one thirty in the morning. According to the Fitbit, she slept uninterrupted for over seven hours.

The Fitbit can be cheated. That keeps me leery of all its numbers. For example, a rocking chair or playing with the cat with a string will increase your numbers. I’m dubious how much benefit either of those activities are to my overall goal of walking more and being more active.

Overall, after almost four months, I’m satisfied. We are more active. We go on walks together. Needing something for a salad or a green vegetable for dinner, we’ll just walk the mile to the store and back, together, to acquire the steps, miles and activities. We’ll walk to our favorite used book store, The Book Wagon. Its less than a mile away. Typically, we’ll combine them. The grocery is one direction and the book store is in the other, so we’ll end up with a three mile circuit.

Or, like yesterday, we’ll take a brisk walk around town and through the park. And sometimes, like yesterday, we’ll stop in a cafe, pub or coffee shop.

Yesterday, we stopped at Zoey’s for ice cream. I had the bourbon fudge gelato.

It was excellent.

 

 

The Hardest Path to Walk

The hardest path to walk, the most difficult challenging in terms of morality, ethics, courage and bravery, or risk, isn’t the path that I’m taking this morning.

Yes, the coffee cup is damn full. I’ve slurped down the mocha from the brim. I’m conscious of its waves and motion as I take steps. “Easy,” I encourage myself. “Stay focused.”

No, it’s not the hardest path. It’s just walking a full cup of coffee across a public room.

Because you know everyone will notice if you spill it.

Well, maybe not.

Okay, probably not.

Still, it’s coffee.

Well, it’s just coffee.

Top Writing Tips Posts of Winter 2016/2017

I’m always hunting reminders and new insights. I worry that my writing will be too stale, my plots have become moribund and predictable, my dialogue and the characters uttering them are trite and lame.

I worry that I don’t know, understand or comprehend enough about grammar and punctuation. Yes, there are editors who can help with these matters, but I want to be right. I want to learn. I want to be better.

And I know that I struggle to write, that I’ll always struggle, but I keep trying. So posts like this, with links to other insights, are useful to me. I never know where I’ll find a fresh nugget of understanding or a reminder.

So I repost this for others. I’m just spreading the information. The links were useful to me; maybe, they’ll be useful to you.

Anyone Like Me

When I was fifteen,

I’d been noticing girls.

And I saw this one and thought,

she’d be good to know.

 

So I sat beside her,

once at lunch,

and then tried to talk.

 

But she cut me off before a word was out.

Standing up,

she said,

 

“I’ve seen you around,

“I know who you are.

“I’ve never met anyone like you.

“I’ve heard the stories about who you are,

“I don’t think I’ve ever known,

“anyone like you.

“But I’ve thought about it and I have to say,

“I don’t think I want to be hanging around,

with someone like you.”

 

Then when I was eighteen,

I moved out from my parents’ place,

telling myself, “You’re finally free.”

 

I got a job in a coffee shop,

and started making a little more money.

 

I saw a chick,

at a table,

reading a book,

by Somerset Maugham.

And I thought,

she’d be good to know.

 

So I sat beside her and tried to talk.

 

But she cut me off,

with barely a glance.

She said,

 

“I’ve seen you around,

“I know who you are.

“I’ve never met anyone like you.

“I’ve heard the stories about who you are,

“I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone like you.

“But I’ve thought about it and I have to say,

“I don’t think I want to be hanging around,

“with someone like you.”

 

When I was twenty-three, I was making a living,

done with college,

I knew

I wasn’t free.

I saw this woman, at this place,

watching me across the room.

She looked okay, but I looked away,

because she reminded me of someone like me.

 

Next thing I know, I’m looking up,

because a shadow crossed over

the top of my laptop.

 

I turned to see, who could it be,

but you know, you know,

it was her.

And she said,

 

“I’ve seen you around,

“I know who you are.

“I’ve never met anyone like you.

“I’ve heard the stories about who you are,

“I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone like you.

“But I’ve thought about it and I have to say,

“I thought I might want to hang around,

with someone like you.”

 

And I said,

“Yeah, I’ve seen you around,

“I know who you are.

“I’ve never met anyone like you.

“I’ve heard the stories about who you are,

“I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone like you.

“But I’ve thought about it and I have to say,

“You seem to be,

“a lot like me.”

 

And she said, “Yeah, that’s probably true.

“Because you seem,

“a lot like me.

“I don’t know,

“how it’ll go,

“Let’s just try it for a while,

“and see.”

The Compulsion

It was between his second and third, or maybe fourth and fifth, pints of a Pacific Ale that he realized he, and his friends, had become zombies.

Mouths slack, they were snarling and growling. Part of his brain still functioned sufficiently to observe and think. Those in the pizza place who were drinking beer were becoming zombies. A young family was about to be attacked and eaten on the other side of the room. The family, and perhaps a few kids that weren’t part of the family, ignorant of their impending fate, were still laughing and yelling and eating pizza. The young parents had their hands full.

There was no more conversations at the table. His friends were eyeing other people as possible meals. Ron was already staggering to his feet. Anyone watching might think he was drunk and going off for a piss.

Screams and shouting with tinges of shock and horror broke out. All his friends rose up, rushing to eat others. He wanted to go to, but —

Beer remained.

He reached for the pitcher. He understood his compulsions and what kind of zombie he was.

Get Going

Get going, get going,

rise up, do your thing.

What do they say, just do it?

Get going, get going,

drink the coffee, eat the food,

get dressed and go.

Get the house cleaned and the bed made,

don’t pause, just go.

Get to work, get to class,

get up and get off your lazy ass.

If you want to be something, you know what you gotta do,

you want to get it done, here’s advice for you.

Get going, get going,

rise up, do your thing.

Time didn’t wait for anyone else,

time won’t wait for you.

Inspirational Quote # 591

I was reflecting on something like this today. After writing my novel’s “new words”, I walked away and thought, I’ve captured the essence of the action. Now I need to slow down and add the poetry of life. Oh, but that will extend the novel’s length and the time it takes to get it out there. I need to be more concerned about how good it will be and less concerned about ‘getting it done’.

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Cold Therapy Continues

March 20th marked the beginning of my cold therapy challenge for myself. Today’s cold shower was my ninth.

I’m very slowly acclimating. Washing my hair (twice) was the worst. I turn the water off after soaking my head to apply the shampoo and lather up. It seems like standing in the shower during that interlude feels bitter cold.

Still, it’s a choice and it’s inside, where it’s sixty-eight degrees. It’s better than many have. Yeah, I whine and rant about it because c’est moi.

On the bright side, I’m probably saving money on the water and gas bills.

Catment

An irritated, irked or annoyed cat often makes a catment by throwing litter out of the box, jumping by your head when you’re asleep in bed, or scratching on furniture, all gestures to punctuate its displeasure.

The late Pogo (l) and Scheckter are shown. Neither of them ever made catments. Jade, on the other hand, was a master of using catments to act out her anger.

Inspirational Quote # 590

This is truth for me. Reminders that others discovered and overcame the same truth inspires me and strengthens my resolve to persevere. But then, it could just be the coffee talking. It is a potent French roast.

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